


Two's Company, Three's a Delight

by coyg_81, LaBelladoneX, smithandbarrowman



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All holes filled!, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bed Sex, Blow Jobs, Death Eaters, Desk Sex, Dirty Death Eaters, Double Penetration, F/M, Floor Sex, Fucking, In case you didn't get the message!, Multi, No knickers... or bra!, Office Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, So Wrong It's Right, Sorry Not Sorry, Spanking, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, did we mention sex?, so much sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 01:41:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19897777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyg_81/pseuds/coyg_81, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelladoneX/pseuds/LaBelladoneX, https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandbarrowman/pseuds/smithandbarrowman
Summary: Defending Death Eaters was what Hermione Granger was known for. She was ruthless, intelligent, aloof... determined to never let the public see her true face. But behind closed doors, she was not that woman. Her best friends didn’t truly know her, didn’t see what lurked beneath her professional facade. But two Death Eaters did, and they took advantage. Because she allowed them to.





	1. Sebastian needs to be a little nicer to Death Eaters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CuppaTea90](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuppaTea90/gifts).



> Written to celebrate the birthday of our lovely alpha, CuppaTea90. Happy birthday, L!  
> Aesthetic by coyg_81.
> 
> Read in a secluded spot, with no interruptions, and tea.

He ignored the stares as he made his way along the corridor. It was rare that he came to her office; they usually met at his. But, just an hour ago, she had sent an owl. She was stuck, she’d written, unable to leave. 

He would have to come to her. 

The pieces of parchment had fluttered to the floor, the note torn apart in frustration. He preferred to meet at his office — hers wasn’t as secure as his. And, with his status as a former Death Eater, their meetings required the utmost discretion.

Yes, he had been exonerated; in fact, a full pardon had been issued and his record wiped clean. And it was all thanks to her. 

He had been furious, to say the least, when she had been appointed to represent him. But his fears had been allayed on their first meeting. She’d not once brought up the bad blood — as it were — between them. Instead, she had stated simply that she didn’t take kindly to arrogant men who thought her incompetent just because she was young, and a woman. Adding that he would do well to mind his manners in her presence if he wished to be pardoned for his misguided judgement when it came to evil overlords. 

He’d done as she had asked, and pardoned he had been. 

The tiny lion she had pinned to her robes was a highly inadequate talisman. A dragon would have been more appropriate — she was power and strength, and full of fire. 

Her performance in court had been jaw-dropping. She had held the entire Wizengamot in the palm of her hand, and had he not known that magic wasn’t permitted in the chamber, he would have assumed she had them under a spell. By the time she had finished, not one member of the council would have dared argue she was wrong. 

And it was with that performance alone that he had hired her to handle his divorce. Of course, that had been more personal, and the details she insisted on him revealing had him — for the first time in his life — squirming uncomfortably. 

His marriage to Narcissa Black had been a pure-blood arrangement and little else. He’d not wanted to marry her. Narcissa was cold, aloof, and it wasn’t until their son arrived that she actually smiled. 

They had lived separate lives — discreetly, of course. They put on a public front of being happily married, but their lives reflected a different truth. She had her dalliances, he had his. They’d not once spent an entire night in the same bedroom. Even their marriage hadn’t been consummated until three years later, when pressure from both their families to produce an heir became a near constant order. And that had taken just three attempts — for which they were both grateful. It had been unfeeling, almost mechanical sex to simply do their duty and conceive their son, and nothing more. 

Of course, the love he had for his son equalled no other. His only remaining regret was that they had passed on their bigoted — and highly incorrect — views to him. 

He shook the thought of his ex-wife from his head. He had business to attend to and didn’t need that woman inside his head while he did so. 

The door at the end of the hallway had a simple name plate: Hermione Granger. That was all. No bragging accolades, no accomplishments. Not even ‘Attorney at Law.’ 

And it made him smile. 

Simple. Straight to the point. It spoke volumes about the woman behind the door.

He opened the door to the small, spartan, outer-office. It was pristine — white walls set against simple grey carpet, and no artwork or memorabilia to be seen. Only an uncomfortable looking chair — set against one wall — broke the starkness of the room, and Lucius prayed he would not be asked to wait and have to endure what he knew would be torture to sit in it.

The young man seated behind an equally spartan desk glanced up at him without any kind of welcoming expression. 

“I am here to see—“

“You may head straight in,” the young man said with a nod towards the closed door. “Ms Granger is expecting you.”

Lucius was surprised at the curtness in the young man’s voice. But, he supposed, when dealing with the likes of former Death Eaters — as Ms Granger was want to do — any niceties were irrelevant.

Lucius nodded and made his way into her office.

“I’ll be one moment,” a voice said, seemingly from nowhere. “Lock the door, if you wouldn’t mind. And silence the room… I assume you know the spell to do so.”

Lucius smirked. _With that wicked tongue, she should have been a Slytherin._

He whispered the charm under his breath. Her ability to wandless magic was well known. His, however, was not, and he preferred it to stay that way.

“Mr Malfoy.” She stepped out of what he assumed was a bathroom. “My apologies for the inconvenience.”

“Not at all, Ms Granger. It’s always a pleasure to visit your office.” Lucius held his face passive, knowing she was hoping for a reaction from him. 

She was dressed impeccably, as usual, but he also knew she had dressed for him. 

Anyone else would see it as a simple black dress, however, Lucius knew it was anything but. The neckline showed off the perfect skin of her neck and collar, and then dipped just low enough to give a teasing glimpse of the swell of her breasts. The fabric clung to her, accentuating every perfect curve, and the hem sat just above her knee. She looked completely professional and downright fuckable.

A hot rush of blood headed south, and his desire stirred.

And she knew it.

She trailed her eyes slowly down to his feet and back up again, causing heat to flood his face. 

Lucius Malfoy never blushed.

Never before had a woman had such an effect on him. He had always managed to remain composed around women. Flirtatious advances, coy smiles, and outright offers of nights he would never forget were what he was accustomed to. But in the year since she had become his preferred attorney, the nameless women disappeared from his nights, and her name was the one on his lips as he took to pleasuring himself. 

Hermione Granger had gotten under his skin, and there hadn’t been a woman prior who had done as such. She played this game as well as he did — standoffish, giving nothing, remaining professional and curt. She gave off an air of dominance, and in doing so, had people falling at her feet. 

She was everything he desired in a woman — smart, shrewd, headstrong. Beautiful. 

She was almost more than he could handle.

Almost.

“No robes?” One perfectly shaped eyebrow arched loftily in an expression so familiar, Lucius would have sworn she was a Malfoy. 

Lucius looked down at his attire. A black, three-piece suit, black button-down shirt, and a black tie. 

“This is... ” Lucius returned his gaze to her, “I believe your words were... _tone it down_.” 

“Well, you definitely have done as I asked.” Hermione perched on the edge of her desk, crossing one long leg over the other. “And I must say, you’ve chosen well.”

Lucius simply nodded; her approval meant the world to him, but he’d never allow her to know that. He removed his jacket, folding it over the arm of yet another uncomfortable looking chair, and moved to stand in front of her. “You said we had business to discuss?”

She reached behind her and picked up a roll of parchment, unfurling it, and pointing to the figures written on it. “This is the response to my request for Ms Black’s financial standings. As you can see, Mr Malfoy, what your ex-wife can expect to receive from you is nothing. She has her own wealth, which is equal to yours, therefore — coupled with the details of your fake marriage — her claim on your estate is baseless.” 

Lucius was shocked as he read through the figures on the parchment. Narcissa’s own bank vault, and her inherited family holdings, showed an equal amount to his very own. 

His former wife had long complained that Bellatrix — being their father’s favourite — had been promised Andromeda’s share when the family disowned her. It now appeared that, since Bellatrix’s death, the entire Black fortune had been left to Narcissa, and everything she had told him was a blatant lie. She had lived comfortably off _his_ family’s wealth, while hers had grown exponentially.

He shook his head and absently loosened his tie — the thin piece of silk was making it hard to breathe. “How could I have been so blind?”

“Anyone could have missed this. She hid it rather well.”

He straightened his spine and puffed out his chest — not wanting Hermione to know how stupid he felt that Narcissa had managed to fool him — and glanced up to find her smiling at him. The hem of her dress had ridden up when she reached back for the parchment, and now a significant portion of her thigh was showing. 

Even more blood rushed south.

“Mr Malfoy, is something bothering you?” Her expression was one of feigned innocence. 

“Everything is fine, Ms Granger.” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Why would you think otherwise?”

“Well…” Her eyes dropped and she bit her lip, the evidence of exactly what was bothering him was pressing against the front of his trousers. “You’ve suddenly become quite… rigid. I would hope that I’m not making you uncomfortable.”

Lucius glanced down; her skin was flawless, beautifully tanned, and when he reached out to touch her thigh, it felt like satin pressed against his palm. “On the contrary, Ms Granger. I’m feeling quite comfortable with you.” 

“How comfortable?”

In a move so quick it startled her, Hermione was on her feet, her dress pooling around her ankles, and her flimsy excuse for underwear torn from her body, on its way to the floor.

Lucius smirked at her stunned expression, tracing one finger along the edge of the lace of her red bra. “A very dangerous choice of colour, Ms Granger. Did you wear it in the hope I would tear it off you?”

She regained her composure, running her finger along the buttons of his shirt, each one coming undone as she passed over it. She slid the shirt from his shoulders, letting it slide to the floor, remarking rather haughtily, “You could try.”

Lucius gripped the slip of lace between her breasts and with one fierce tug, her bra was pulled from her body and joining her knickers, and his shirt, on the floor. 

“Impressive, Mr Malfoy.” Hermione’s hands made quick work of the fastenings, and she shoved his trousers and boxers down his legs. “ _Very_ impressive.”

His hands went to her breasts, his thumbs flicking over her tight nipples, while her own hand wrapped around his cock and squeezed. Hard. 

Lucius groaned. These meetings were never enough. He wanted more with her. He wanted her in his home, in his bed. He wanted hours with her, hours to explore her body, to bring her over again and again, to make love to her rather than just take her rough and fast in these _meetings_. 

But more than all of that, he wanted her on his arm, wanted to be seen with her, to make it known that Lucius Malfoy had managed to snare the Brightest Witch of her Age. 

She was younger, he was aware, but her twenty-seven to his fifty-two wasn’t the scandal he was sure it would be made out to be. He knew women who were much older yet far less mature than she was, women who made complete fools of themselves as they fawned over men such as himself. 

Hermione Granger put them all to shame. 

She was elegance and grace, confidence and beauty, and the aloof persona she carried wasn’t that of his ex-wife. Where Narcissa was cold and disarming, Hermione seemed to draw people in. She drew stares and pointed whispers everywhere she went. The entire world wanted to know her, but none of them more than him. 

However, he knew it was impossible. He’d asked her to dinner after several of their trysts, but she’d always refused. He’d even tried to sell them as business dinners, but she was too shrewd to fall for his attempts. 

He pulled himself from his maudlin thoughts and allowed himself to enjoy the feel of her stroking him. From the very first time she had wrapped her slim fingers around him, she had been perfect. She had somehow sensed exactly what he liked, what he wanted, what he needed, and she’d driven him to the brink of madness every time since. 

And this time would be no different.

He circled her wrist, stopping her hand. “I believe you owe me a debt, Ms Granger.”

“And what debt would that be, Mr Malfoy?”

Lucius smirked at the innocent expression on her face — she was anything but. “I believe, Ms Granger, that just a few days ago, you ordered me to my knees. I was kind enough to comply, so now—” he touched one fingertip to her chin “—I would request the same of you.” 

She leaned in close, her lips brushing over his, teasing, gone before he could hold her in place against his mouth. “Do you want me on my knees, Lucius? On my knees, at your mercy?”

Lucius smiled at the switch in names. The first time they had ended up naked and sweaty, she had called him Lucius, and had insisted — rather breathlessly — that when they were like that, he should call her Hermione. But _only_ when they were like that.

“Never at my mercy, Hermione, only at my request.”

“Hmmm,” she murmured, and flicked her wrist. The clothes pooled at their feet jumped to life, folding themselves in mid-air and landing neatly on the chair behind them. “At your request? Are you _requesting,_ Lucius, that I kneel before you and pleasure you?”

“That is my request.” Lucius cupped her jaw with one hand, sliding his thumb across her lips. “You do know how I love this mouth, how I love these soft lips. How wet and warm, and perfect, you are… just for me.”

A tiny frown creased her brow, gone as quickly as it appeared, and he knew his words had struck a chord. _Love_ and _perfect_ and _just for me._ He’d been using such terms in the last few weeks, gauging her reactions. Typically she would ignore them, but her tiny frown gave him hope. 

“Well,” she purred, her hand tracing over his chest, trying to hide the effect his words had, “if it’s perfection you seek…”

She dropped to her knees and, without hesitation, she took the very tip of him into her mouth. Lucius groaned. Her eager mouth was more than anything he had ever felt ever in his life. 

Her tongue swirled around the head, dipping into the very tip, and teasing the sensitive underside. Her teeth scraped along the shaft as she took more and more of him into her mouth, her hand gripping the base and pumping in time with the twisting of her tongue. 

She’d done this on many occasions for him. In the three months since their affair had begun, she’d pleasured him with her mouth more times than any other woman had. The most memorable occasion having been just two weeks prior, when she’d parted her thighs over his face, and he experienced — for the very first time in his life — the pleasure of tasting a woman’s release at the precise moment that she tasted his.

And it was at that moment, those few seconds in time, that he knew he wanted no other.

He looked down at her — eyes closed, her red lips stretched around him, her own hand between her thighs — and the need to be inside her, to feel her tight walls around him, clamping down hard as she cried out his name, hit him like a fist to the chest. 

In a sudden movement, he pulled his hips back, startling her. She glanced up at him, her eyes wide, and he could almost read her thoughts. 

“Lucius, what—?” 

Lucius touched one finger to her lips, “All is well, Hermione. Your mouth is perfect, but…” 

He smiled down at her before flicking his wrist and watching her surprise at the wandless magic he was performing. His neatly folded jacket floated from the chair, expanding as it did so, and landed gently on the simple grey carpet in the form of a soft white rug. 

“Wandless magic?” Her voice was a whisper, her jaw dropping open. So few possessed the ability — she being one of them — and her expression of awe at his revelation was a compliment that made his chest swell.

“Wandless magic, my love.” Lucius dropped to his knees. “But we shall discuss it another time.”

He took advantage of her shock at his endearment and lowered her gently to the soft rug, kneeling between her legs. He dragged one finger up her slit, feeling how wet and ready she was, watching her slick folds open for him as her thighs spread wider — an open invitation to enter her body. 

He shifted forward, the tip of his cock pressing against her, her body dipping, ready to accept him. He paused. He wanted to hear the sound — the tiny, breathless gasp she made every time he pushed just inside her. He wasn’t sure she was even aware of it. Her eyes would flutter shut, her lips would part, her chest would rise, and then, _then_ , the glorious sound would be exhaled into the air around them. 

Lucius had never in his life thought such an insignificant sound could affect him in such a way. He leaned over her, watching her face, watching as her full lips parted and her gasp left her as he filled her core.

Hermione’s hands slid around his ribs, pulling him down to her. They’d never been this intimate. Never had their bodies been so fully connected.

They’d fucked on his desk, she’d ridden him on his couch. He’d taken her from behind with her hands planted on the wall, her head falling forward, her moans filling his ears. His mouth had been between her thighs, her tongue had greedily tasted him. But not once had he been over her like he was right then. 

His mouth covered hers, his tongue dipping into her mouth — an act so foreign to their usual hard and fast romps, he was concerned she would shove him away. 

But there was no shoving, no resistance. Instead, she kissed him back. Kissed him with a fierceness he’d not expected. Her hands were suddenly in his hair, holding him against her, in a gesture that seemed like she never wanted this to end.

Lucius groaned against her lips, reluctantly pulling back to allow them both to catch their breath. Her face was flushed, her eyes speaking more than any words could say. The realisation of their position had dawned on her too. 

She arched her body against his, her hips rocking up, begging without words for him to move. He dropped his mouth to hers once more, and then gave into her will. 

Lucius moved over her in a rhythm so fluid it felt like a dance. His entire body caressed hers as he slid over her, his hips rolling, his mouth pressed against her throat. 

Her hand gripped the tight muscles of his arse, the other remained tangled in his hair, as she found his rhythm and met his every slow thrust. 

“Lucius… _oh_!” Hermione’s cry was one of surprise as the solid length of him slid against the soft place inside her body that sent her nerves into a frenzy. He did it again and again, shifting slightly the angle of his hips, his cock sliding against her clit, doubling her pleasure. 

Hermione cried out again, her body seizing beneath him. He could feel her orgasm as it slammed into her, her walls becoming a vice around him as her body shuddered with her release. 

He continued to dance over her, wanting her to shatter all over again. He slowed his pace, building her up again, watching her face as her pleasure grew once more. 

“Can you feel it?” Lucius groaned, his own release was flickering along his spine. “Can you feel how perfect you are? How perfect you are around me?”

Hermione’s head rolled back, her neck corded, and another wave of ecstasy rolled over her. 

“Lucius.”

His name was like a prayer from her mouth, and he pumped into her, once, twice, three times, and her own name sounded in the room. His body convulsed, his balls drew up tightly — almost painfully — and his seed spilled into her in an almost never-ending stream. 

He groaned at what felt like his entire body emptying inside her, and fell against her. She wrapped herself around him — another first — and he luxuriated in the feeling of her heated skin against his own. 

“I want more,” he breathed and she stiffened beneath him. But he didn’t care. He needed her to know. “I want more than this. More than just secret meetings. I want you on my arm, in my bed. I want to be seen with you. I want… I want you, _all_ of you.” 

“Lucius, I…” She seemed to be at a loss. His words having affected her more than he realised. 

He lifted his head and smiled ruefully down at her. She stared back at him, her face unreadable. “I understand if you’re not ready. I know it would be a big step, but I simply ask that you consider it. My feelings have grown past what I first thought. I want you, Hermione. I want you more than I have wanted anything, or anyone, in my life.”

A small smile curled her mouth as she shook her head. “I don’t make promises easily, Lucius, but I will promise you this. I will consider your proposal. And whatever it is that I decide, I do wish to still continue our meetings.” 

Lucius nodded, dogging down the disappointment that threatened to burst out. He knew better than to plead with her. And he wouldn’t lower himself to beg. So he had to be content with her at least considering what he was asking. 

He reluctantly lifted off her, his eyes dropping down to where his spent cock slipped out of her, his seed following, sliding down the crease of her arse. 

He waved his hand briefly across her, but she grabbed his wrist, stopping him. 

“Leave it,” she said with a satisfied sigh. “I want to feel you in me all day.”

Lucius nodded. He’d not really wanted to vanish the evidence of his having been inside her. In fact, he wanted to mark her — such an archaic thought, and one he knew she would never allow — but nonetheless he wanted to. He wanted her, and wanted her in a way that had his possessiveness growling at the thought of anyone else having her.

Lucius looked up to find her grinning at him. 

“You’ve been holding out on me, Mr Malfoy. Wandless magic? Do tell how you’ve hidden your ability for so long.”


	2. Sebastian got the biscotti in Tesco

“How long do I have to keep checking in with you, Granger?” 

“Don’t you like coming to visit me?” She teased, her smile playful and too fucking tempting. 

_ Fucking want you, witch! You’ve no idea what else I imagine doing to you. _

“I’m a free man now,” he replied, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, trying to keep the chair from moving under him. He didn’t like her office furniture, all minimalist and modern. And the chairs swung around in circles. What the fuck for?

As for that fucking torture device her assistant called a chair in the outer office! 

“You are, Thorfinn,” Hermione agreed, calling out to her assistant for coffee. She sat opposite the former Death Eater, swinging her chair from side to side. She loved the bareness of her office; the lack of clutter and memorabilia brought an austere, almost vacant look to the room, but the furniture was her pride and joy.

It always amused Hermione how surprised her clients were by her office suite. No doubt they expected soft furnishings and overflowing bookshelves, one cushion short of a full replica of Sybil Trelawney’s classroom. Her home was more comfortable, more relaxed and casual. But here? 

Here, she was professional, in charge. 

Here, she was in control. 

And she controlled everything, from her clients to her surroundings. 

She had searched Muggle antique stores for authentic Eames lounge chairs with matching ottomans. Lucius hated them, she knew by the look in his eye every time he visited her office — which wasn’t often. The plywood and black leather had been restored to perfection and Hermione loved to slide her naked skin against the cool material, her favourite toy between her legs. There was nothing like stripping off after a long day and bringing herself to a satisfactory release, images of two particular clients foremost in her mind. 

One of those clients was now sitting opposite her. The other had left a couple of hours before, disappointed that she hadn’t spoken the words he wanted to hear. She wanted him but— 

Sebastian interrupted her thoughts with coffee and almond biscotti, nodding once when Hermione suggested he take an early lunch. She hadn’t gotten anything done since Lucius left, and she secretly hoped her meeting with Thorfinn would go just as well as her 9am had. 

Once the lock of the door clicked shut behind her assistant, Hermione waved her hand to secure it further. 

“Now… we’re alone,” she remarked, sliding forward in her chair. “How do you take your coffee?”

“You don’t remember? Black.”

She handed Thorfinn a fine bone china coffee cup, sitting delicately on its saucer. His large fingers could hardly fit around the handle. He frowned, the coffee consumed in one small mouthful. 

“I would have thought that pure-bloods like you would be used to the finer things in life, Thorfinn,” she commented, sliding a finger seductively around the gilded rim of her own cup. “I figured I’d serve you my Thomas Goode Art Deco coffee set rather than a large mug with ‘Keep Calm and Ask Hermione’ on the side — gift from Ron.”

“I should have known,” he replied, referring to the ridiculous present, and having never heard of Thomas Goode. “However, I am very well accustomed to having the finer things in life…  _ Hermione _ .” The innuendo dripped from his tongue. “My height and strength don’t completely define me. I may be strong but I can be… tender… if the mood takes me.”

“I don’t think I’d ever consider you  _ tender _ ,” she mused, sipping her coffee slowly. The times they’d been together were anything but tender. “Tell me what you’re like when you’re… tender.”

Thorfinn sat back in the chair, his cup already back on the serving tray. He crossed his legs and relaxed, watching her. She didn’t take her eyes off him either, her body reacting to his gaze. They stared at each other, the heat rising between them. 

He was rugged, hard-lined, stern… gorgeous. She tried not to compare, but he was so different. Some of his dark blond hair was tied back, the rest flowing around his shoulders, the same shade as his neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were piercing blue, the colour of a tropical sea at the height of the sun. His perfect teeth bit his lip and Hermione found herself longing to have them sink into her skin. 

She hadn’t replaced her underwear or bra after Lucius had left. She’d remained on the floor, her skin caressed by the softness of the rug they’d made love on. His words played over in her head; Lucius wanted her. She wanted him. 

But she also wanted more. 

She also wanted more of Thorfinn Rowle.

Hermione wanted the best of both worlds; she wanted the sleek, debonair, Lucius to seduce her, to keep her. She wanted the rugged, Herculean, Thorfinn to take her breath away.

His voice brought her back to reality; so did the dampness between her legs. 

“My touch can be rough,” he began. “I like to be in control of a situation; I’m used to being the one to lead… to make the rules. And, yes, if the mood takes me, I can be gentle... considerate… I can be passionate.”

Hermione smiled, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “So… if you were to take control of this situation, right now, for example, what would you do?”

“We’re not doing anything,” he replied. “You called me here, I’m still waiting for you to tell me why.”

“I’d like to have a… situation… with you.”

“Would you now?”

“I would. And I’d like you to take control of the  _ situation _ , and act accordingly.” Hermione placed her cup and saucer down beside his, standing up slowly so he could take in the shape of her curves under her dress. “I want to know what it’s like to be under your control.”

Thorfinn reached into his robes and retrieved his wand. Hermione’s eyes widened; she hadn’t meant  _ that _ … she didn’t want  _ that _ . 

He placed his wand on the tray, standing to remove his robes. “I would never  _ Imperio _ another witch or wizard,” he remarked, noticing the fear in her eyes. “If you’d like me to be in charge, that’s fine. But, technically, we’ll be doing what you want. Doesn’t that make  _ you _ the one in control?”

A large hand reached out for her, and she grasped it instantly, her body aching with need. He understood her; he got it. 

He’d do what she wanted. She wanted to be dominated. 

And he was willing to oblige.

“Do you want to use our safe word?” Thorfinn asked kindly, pulling Hermione into his arms, his lips ghosting across her cheek. 

“Do you think I’ll need it?”

“No, not now. But you will the next time.”

Hermione flushed with excitement, her arousal soaking the tops of her thighs. 

“So what—”

“Kneel. Now.”

She trembled, falling to her knees immediately. 

He had begun. And she could hardly breathe as pure need — raw and unrelenting — flowed within her. This was new… exciting… 

This was what she wanted as well, and she really didn’t want to choose. 

She lowered her head and closed her eyes, her hands folded on her lap. Large fingers combed through her hair, gently tugging, his touch almost sensual. 

“You are a beautiful woman, Hermione Granger. Even though I tried to kill you in the past, the sight of you in that café in London… your red dress cut low at the front… bare legs going on for miles… I would have taken you there and then.” He removed his fingers, standing directly in front of her. “Release me.”

Hermione clenched her muscles, stemming the flow of arousal that soaked the dress tucked beneath her. She reached up and slowly opened his leather belt, her eyes focused on the task at hand. He had shed his outer robes, casually throwing them where Lucius’ had been neatly folded hours before. Next she opened the traditional clasp on his dark grey trousers, allowing the material to fall back away from his skin. He didn’t wear any underwear, her fingers instantly caressing soft blond curls. She gently guided his length away from the confines of his clothing, licking her lips at the sight before her. 

Thorfinn Rowle did not disappoint. He was a giant of a man, in every sense of the word. His cock was perfectly straight, thick and long. He reminded Hermione of her favourite dildo, the one she loved to slide into her arse while rocking on her iVibe. She licked her lips, her mouth watering at the sight right in front of her. 

“Suck.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Gripping him firmly, rising up onto her knees, Hermione ran her tongue along the length of him — first on the left, then the right. She lifted him carefully and kissed along underneath from his balls to the tip, licking the precome into her mouth. 

Suddenly her head was pulled back, Thorfinn’s grip reefing her hair as he loomed over her. 

“I said ‘suck’, witch!”

_ Oh, Merlin. I need to come. Need to… _

His tone excited her more than she ever thought possible. Hermione gasped, whispering as he snarled in her face. 

“I’m sorry... sir.”

She could feel his grasp loosen, his breath catch. 

“Good girl. Now do what I told you.”

Hermione instantly obeyed, her head moving forward, lips sliding down his cock, tongue flicking at his leaking slit. She couldn’t take him all in but she did her best, his length filling her mouth as he cooed above her, his hands in her hair again. 

“That feels… yeah, just like that… that’s my girl… you like to do what you’re told, don’t you?”

She felt excited — his praises like the perfect grades on an exam paper… a gold star on the pages of her diary. 

He breathed heavily, guiding her head towards his body, feeling the caress of her throat around the tip of his pulsing cock. Merlin, he wanted her like this for so long. From the moment they’d met, he knew what he wanted.

He wanted her. 

Thorfinn knew he wasn’t romantically attracted to her. He didn’t think he’d ever feel that way towards anyone. Maybe one day, but not now. Not when his body only ached for the physical release of pure, raw sex. His mind needed to switch off; his heart was still closed. He needed to heal. It was too soon to consider anything else. 

Right now, he was getting what he wanted. And that would do. 

“Little witch, you’re doing so well,” he whispered, his hips moving in time to her sucking. “You’re well practised, aren’t you? How many cocks have you had in that mouth, hmm? How many men have you fallen on your knees for?”

She held up six fingers, her gaze not leaving his. 

He raised an eyebrow. “Up.”

Hermione obeyed immediately, pulling her lips tight around his cock as she  _ popped _ her mouth around the tip and stood up. 

“Undress me.”

She clicked her fingers and Thorfinn stood naked before her. 

“Smart bitch,” he grinned. “I’ll have to be more… in control of my words in the future, won’t I?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And little girls who do smart things get punished, don’t they?”

“Yes, sir.”

He towered over her, his body firm and muscular. He was a perfect specimen of a gladiator, a warrior… he was strength, power… he was a god. His scars were the sexiest thing Hermione had ever seen, she longed to trail her fingers along the uneven lines, to kiss them, to run the tip of her tongue along the smooth seams of his shaded past. 

“Turn around. Bend over and hold onto the arm of the chair.”

She obeyed, sighing as he pushed her dress up and over the bare cheeks of her arse. A single finger ran along the folds of her soaking pussy, followed by the hum of Thorfinn tasting her on his lips. 

“Little witch, you taste of sex. Has your assistant been busy outside working hours?”

“No, sir.”

“Hmm… so someone else has had you recently… I wonder who…”

A quick whisper had Hermione’s hands stuck to the arms of the chair, her legs spread.

“ _ Accio _ Hermione’s appointment diary.”

She quivered in excitement. How would Thorfinn react once he saw who had visited her earlier that morning? 

“Sir, please…”

_ SLAP! _

“Quiet.”

She couldn’t help the groan that escaped her lips. Red hot needles pierced her skin where he’d slapped her, hard and without warning. It was fucking glorious. 

“Well, well, Lucius Malfoy,” Thorfinn remarked, “and your next appointments are all cancelled, except for mine. How very interesting. Tell me, did Lucius have more than just an appointment, Hermione? Did he have your cunt as well?”

“Yes, sir, he—”

_ SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!  _

Quick, rapid strikes on her skin, each one edging closer to her clit. Hermione screamed with lust, her orgasm moments away. If he slapped her again, she’d—

_ SLAP! _

She squirted onto the chair, the floor, her designer heels, screaming her release. Fluids flowed from her as she shook from the intensity of her orgasm. He dropped her diary, not caring that it landed on the wet floor, and grabbed her hips, shoving his cock straight into her core. 

“You’ll be cancelling your next appointments, Hermione,” he ground out. “I’m in no rush.”

“Oh, gods, sir, please… harder… please!”

“Since you said ‘please’ so nicely.”

He began to thrust harder and faster, his balls banging against her folds, his cock ramming into her tight centre, her muscles sucking him in. Thorfinn released his spell, pulling Hermione back to him, shredding the front of her dress to touch her breasts. He moulded his hands around them, moving in sync with her heaving breaths. Her nipples were like bullets between his thumbs and forefingers, her own hands coming up to cover his. 

Thorfinn didn’t even slow down; he kept up the same pace, grinding against her, bringing her to release over and over again. He hadn’t even broken a sweat whilst Hermione could barely stand.

“Sir, please… I can’t…”

He could feel her waning, her body heavy against his. Not so gently he pulled out, turning her quickly as he sat down on the wet chair, pulling her down on top of him, facing him for the first time. 

“Ride me,” he ordered, “and tell me about the six cocks you’ve had in your mouth.”

She gasped, surprised that he’d ask such a thing. 

He pinched her clit, hard.  _ “Tell me.” _

She squirmed, her body rising up off his cock and slamming back down, breasts bouncing in front of his eyes. 

“R-Ron was my-my first,” she panted, “then… his… brother Charlie—”

Thorfinn grabbed her hips, sliding down in the chair a little and fucking her hard from below. 

“Did they fuck you like this, little witch? Did they make you come over and over again? Did they make you squirt over your precious chairs?”

“N-n-not R-Ron,” she gasped, throwing her head back. “Charlie was the one who… who…”

“Who what?”

“Charlie was the… first… oh, gods, oh… yes… he was the first to m-make me come.”

“Why didn’t you stay with him?”

“Ro-Romania… he lives in Romania… I’m… oh, I’m coming—”

He surged forward, sucking a nipple into his mouth with force, his hand squeezing her other breast. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and met his thrusts. He was a machine, unrelenting, powerful… fucking perfect. 

Without warning, Thorfinn stood as easily as if she wasn’t suddenly in his arms, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist. He didn’t stop fucking her; his hips pistoned into her body, drawing screams of pleasure from her mouth and gushes of arousal from her cunt. 

“Who was next?” He demanded, “Who had you then?”

She didn’t answer straight away, her cheeks reddening.

“Tell me,” he urged her gently, “Tell me your secret, baby.”

“Sir… Sirius and… Remus… together…  _ oh _ , gods—”

By now she was flat on her back on her desk, parchment and quills scattered across the floor. Thorfinn was brutal, his hands almost tearing at her skin with the need to almost climb inside her. Her nails scraped red lines down his arms, their fucking frantic at this stage.

“Little witch likes more than one,” he panted, reaching down to play with her clit, his rough strokes bringing her over the edge again. “Do you like being with two men, baby? Do you like a cock at each end? Or do you like one in your cunt and one in your arse?”

“Any way! I loved it! So… fucking much...” She gasped, her voice hoarse, “I-I want it… want more… want you… him…”

She was almost delirious with the desire that that replaced the blood in her veins. He was driving her insane with lust. Only Lucius had brought her to the same heights of arousal; his touch could ignite her entire body. 

But Lucius also sparked something else within her, something she wasn’t quite able to acknowledge just yet. 

“Next.” Thorfinn demanded, his body starting to shake as he held off his own orgasm. “Who… who was next?”

“Lucius… you…”

“Tell me what you want, little girl.”

“W-want you… Luc… want you… both—”

Thorfinn roared his release, his body emptying into her over and over again, his breath catching as he felt every drop gather within her core and coating his throbbing cock.

Hermione screamed, her body exhausted, weakened from the power of Thorfinn’s fucking. She was limp on the desk, unable to move, think… her eyes closed. 

She woke a while later, curled up in the chair they’d fucked on, Thorfinn’s robes wrapped around her naked skin. A note sat on the tray next to the empty coffee cups. 

_ Meet me at Malfoy Manor tonight at 8pm. Dress for dinner, then prepare to undress for us both.  _

_ Thorfinn _


	3. Whilst Sebastian was ironing his smalls...

Hermione checked her appearance once more in the full-length mirror resting against the wall opposite her bed. She smoothed her hands down the front of the tight black sheath dress she wore and slipped her dainty feet into the four-inch, black patent, Louboutin heels she had purchased on a whim a few months earlier. 

She couldn’t believe this was actually happening. 

After she had read Thorfinn’s note that afternoon, her brain had conjured all sorts of images, making it impossible for her to work on the case files piled on her desk. She had been nervous about what Lucius might have to say; he didn’t know that she’d been fucking Thorfinn behind his back and was sure he wouldn’t want to share her, so she’d been shocked when Lucius’ eagle owl had tapped at her window, delivering a note not two hours after Rowle had left.

_ Ms Granger _

_ I have just had a most enlightening conversation with Thorfinn Rowle, and find myself intrigued to learn just how close you and he have been these last few months.  _

_ He offered a proposition which I am very interested in taking up with him. You have instructions to be at the Manor at 8pm. _

_ Don’t be late. _

_ I will also take this opportunity to tell you that, after tonight, I expect a decision about our earlier discussion. _

_ LM _

Hermione’s heart had felt like it was about to explode out of her chest. It was going to happen — a night with both Lucius Malfoy and Thorfinn Rowle fucking her six ways from Sunday — she couldn’t wait. Feigning a headache and over-tiredness, Hermione had informed Sebastian that she was taking the rest of the day off. Her young assistant had taken one look at the flush on her cheeks and told her he’d clear her calendar for the remainder of the day and to not worry about anything. 

Once she’d Floo-ed home, she’d poured herself a generous helping of her favourite Pinot, taking it along with her to the bathroom where she ran a bath and filled it with jasmine scented bubbles. Relaxing back against the tub, letting the hot water soothe her sore muscles from the day’s sexual exercise with her two ex-Death Eaters, and letting the smell of jasmine calm her, Hermione’s mind wandered into what she thought might happen later that evening. 

Bubbles of excitement were already fizzing in her blood as the thought of having both Lucius and Thorfinn at the same time filled her brain. Neither were gentle lovers, and that’s exactly what she wanted and needed — to let them take control and do what they liked with her. Having already experienced what it was like to be fucked by two men at the same time, Hermione couldn’t help the moan of pleasure that escaped her mouth, knowing Lucius and Thorfinn wouldn’t be as tender — or as considerate — as her night with Sirius and Remus had been. 

She finished her bath, making sure to use the spell that removed all unwanted body hair, wrangled her hair into submission, and dressed in her — and Lucius’ — favourite black dress. After applying a small amount of black mascara and a deep, red lipstick, she stood in front of the mirror, rubbing her clammy, slightly shaking hands down the front of her dress. 

Turning to grab her clutch bag and wand, she walked into her living room, grabbed a handful of Floo powder, shouted out Malfoy Manor, and disappeared in a whirl of green flames.

Stepping out of the fireplace, Hermione looked up to find she was in a luxuriously appointed sitting room. Lucius occupied a highback, leather chair to her right while Thorfinn looked comfortable reclining on the sofa opposite her, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He wore black, fitted trousers, a white shirt — the top two buttons open — with no jacket or tie. His long blond hair was — as usual — slightly messy and hanging down his chest over his shoulders. He smirked in her direction, watching her appraise him. 

Lucius on the other hand, sat up straight in his chair, also wearing black trousers and white shirt, but accompanied with a stylish black tie and fitted jacket. Not a hair was out of place on his regal head, his ponytail secured with a black silk ribbon.

“Good evening, Ms Granger,” Lucius spoke in his aristocratic tone, making Hermione shiver slightly. His voice did things to her; she could instantly imagine that mouth, those lips, his tongue, running all over her body as he whispered filthy things in her ear in that posh voice of his.

Hermione gulped nervously, looking between the two men who had started to rise from their seats, making their way towards her.

“Pet,” Thorfinn growled lowly, picking up her hand to place a kiss to the back of it, giving her a look that said she didn’t know what she was in for. Lucius’ arm came around her waist, squeezing gently as he bent to place a kiss against her flushed cheek. 

“Gentlemen,” she breathed out, smiling at them both.

“Let us escort you to dinner,” Lucius told the witch, his arm not leaving the comfort of her waist as he lead her from the room, while Thorfinn followed closely behind. 

“You’ve not been forthcoming with the truth, my dear,” Lucius whispered into her ear so only she could hear. 

“And yet, here we are,” she grinned wickedly. 

“Indeed.”

Dinner had been an exercise in self-control for all three as Hermione moaned around forkful after forkful of succulent, perfectly cooked food. Everytime a sigh or moan escaped her mouth, she watched both wizards adjust themselves discreetly under the table. 

The heated looks they kept throwing her way — promising retribution — were making Hermione squirm in her seat. She was already soaked as she glanced between Lucius and Thorfinn, their eyes blown wide with lust and wanting.

As she finished the main course of roast beef, lowering her cutlery to the plate and lifting her glass of wine to her lips, she heard Thorfinn growl. 

“Had enough to eat yet, little lion?”

“Not by far,” Hermione smirked devilishly, watching Rowle’s gaze darken further at her innuendo. 

“Stand,” he demanded. 

“What? No dessert?” She asked cheekily, one eyebrow arched. 

“Oh, you’re going to get dessert, witch. Now stand!” He commanded again. 

Doing as he ordered, Hermione stood — never breaking eye contact — and drained her glass before stepping from her chair and around to the wizard sitting opposite her. She glanced at Lucius — who sat at the head of the table — watching him dab his lips with his napkin, following her movements from hooded eyes. 

Coming to stop at the side of Thorfinn’s seat, and awaiting further instructions, Hermione jumped slightly as the burly wizard reached out an arm grabbing her around the waist and sitting her on the table in front of him. 

He placed his hands on her knees, slowly moving them up under the hem of her dress. 

“You will do everything we say.” His fingers were running circles up her thighs, under the tight material of her dress, as he used his thumbs to part her legs as much as possible, given the restraints of the tight garment she wore. 

“Yes, sir,” she breathed erratically, squirming where she sat. 

Having trouble with the dress, Thorfinn used his strength to rip the seams of the material away from her legs before standing and pulling it over her head. She heard Lucius gasp from his place at the head of the table, noticing her nakedness. 

She smirked as she watched him loosen the stiff collar of his shirt, standing quickly and walking around the large table to stand next to Rowle. 

Hermione leaned back on her elbows, nipples stiffening in the cold air of the room as she slowly spread her legs, watching both their gazes move south as her pussy was exposed to them, glistening with her juices. 

“Fuck, you’re in so much trouble,” Thorfinn gritted out between clenched teeth, moving between her legs, his fingers taking up residence where they had been before he’d torn the dress away from her body. 

“Rowle, may I suggest we take this to a more comfortable location?” Lucius hissed, never tearing his eyes from Hermione’s bare pussy. 

“Indeed,” Rowle agreed, picking her up easily, feeling her legs wrap around his waist as he followed Malfoy from the room, across the hallway, and up a flight of stairs. 

Lucius opened a door on the first landing, letting Thorfinn and Hermione into an opulent bedroom. Before she had time to take in her surroundings, Rowle threw her onto a huge bed, vanished his clothes, and immediately covered his now naked body over hers. 

Using one hand to lift Hermione’s leg, the other delved between her soft, wet folds, his fingers pressing inside her and making the witch scream out from the onslaught of sensation. Pulling his coated fingers from her centre, he wiped the digits across her lips, watching her suck them into her mouth before he lined himself up with her pulsing folds and thrust his huge cock inside. 

Hermione wailed her pleasure at having him invade her so thoroughly. 

“Oh, gods… Finn… harder!” She screamed. 

The wizard didn’t need telling twice as he plunged into her dripping core as hard as he could, pulling back and repeating the motion over and over, his body on fire with desire. 

Hermione threw her head back in rapt enjoyment, opening her eyes at the feeling of the bed dipping beside her. Lucius was on his knees, fisting his long, hard cock, then tapping her lips with the tip of it. She eagerly opened her mouth and let him push himself into the hot cavern between her lips. 

Yes! She squealed internally. This was what she wanted — to be filled so urgently and ferociously by them both. She engulfed Lucius’ length, hollowing her cheeks and sucking hard. 

“Fuck, witch, you’ll make me come,” Lucius snarled at the unexpected forcefulness of her movements as Thorfinn continued to pound into her from above. 

Lucius felt his balls tighten quicker than any other time she’d done this — whether it was from her actions, or the sheer absurdity of the situation he found himself in, he didn’t know — but he couldn’t hold back a second longer. His cock pumped his seed down her throat, pulsating inside her mouth as he filled her. 

As he cried out his release — Hermione swallowing everything he gave her — Thorfinn used his hands to push her thighs up and thrust harder, shouting out his own release seconds later. 

Both wizards fell heavily to either side while Hermione gasped for air, her legs coming back down and hitting the mattress, suddenly realising neither wizard had made her come. 

What the actual fuck?

She looked from one to the other, a frown marring her features before Rowle grinned. 

“Feeling left out, witch?” 

“Slightly,” she pouted. 

Lucius turned onto his side, his fingers reaching for one of her nipples, squeezing and pulling it roughly, watching it harden and peek further. 

“Just a taste of things to come. Let’s say, we’re warming up our favourite holes to start with.”

Hermione was shocked at the words leaving Lucius’ mouth. She’d never heard him speak like that before. She expected it from Thorfinn, but not her Lucius. He’d always been more… not gentle — he was far from that — but more… in tune with what she wanted. And tonight it seemed he would be taking exactly what he wanted from her.

It briefly crossed her mind that she’d thought of him as her Lucius. She knew it — he was. 

Hermione felt her other nipple being tweaked into submission from Rowle’s large fingers as both wizards slid their hands down between her breasts, ghosting over her stomach, delving between her sopping folds. Finn’s circled her clit, making Hermione gasp, as Lucius’ slid lower, plunging inside her fluttering centre. 

“Oh, gods,” she cried, her hips arching off the bed as they simultaneously attacked her throbbing cunt. Lucius’ fingers delved deep within her, twisting and rubbing against the front wall of her vagina as Thorfinn pressed hard against her pulsating bud, squeezing it between his fingers, and watching the witch shatter between them. 

“Fuck… fuck… fuck… don’t stop.” Hermione’s hips bucked against their hands as wave after wave of pleasure crested and ebbed through her. She thrashed her head from side to side as neither man gave an inch, continuing to play her body like a finely tuned instrument until she felt that extraordinary feeling of another building orgasm race through her blood as she came apart again, her juices leaking from her pussy alongside Thorfinn’s, dripping down to pool on the mattress below. 

Both wizards pulled their fingers from her, moving until Lucius moved to the end of the bed, pulling her body to the edge of the mattress and flipping her over onto her front, lifting her hips up as he grabbed hold of his semi-hard cock and pushed inside her throbbing cunt. Hermione moaned loudly as he found purchase on her hips, his eyes rolling back at the exquisite feeling of being buried deep within her tight, hot sheath. He held himself still until Thorfinn positioned himself on his knees in front of her.

Rowle gave a cheeky wink to Lucius as he grabbed Hermione by the back of her head, his fingers delving into her wild curls to bring her mouth down on him. 

Hermione moaned around his impressive girth, her tongue flicking across his slit and tasting the salty come already coating him. Lucius pulled out almost all the way before forcing himself back into Hermione’s waiting body, making her lurch forward, more of Rowle’s cock pushing inside her wet mouth. 

“That’s it, witch, take it. You wanted both of us, you knew we wouldn’t be gentle, and now you’re getting what you asked for. Suck it, Granger. Suck it hard, like the good little Gryffindor whore you are.” 

Hermione moaned around the cock that was pushing in and out of her mouth, her tongue sliding up and down the underside of him as his fingers tightened in her hair. He was fucking her mouth like a man possessed, shouting out expletives all the while. 

Lucius glided one hand around her hip, pinching her engorged bud, making her buck wildly between them. She hadn’t been in this position the last time she’d fucked two men, and found herself leaking more fluid over Lucius at the depravity of it all. 

Lucius’ other hand also slid around her hip, gathering up the moisture he found there. He ghosted his fingers down the seam of her arse, two fingers circling her tight rosebud then pushing inside slowly. 

Hermione cried out around Finn, the exquisite feeling of having all of her holes filled so spectacularly by two very dangerous, ex-Death Eaters. If only Harry and Ron could see her now — being fucked, having her body played and used by these men. 

She couldn’t hold on any longer and came hard on Lucius’ cock, pushing back against him as he sunk harder into her, his fingers twisting her clit and pushing into her arse. 

Thorfinn grabbed her head between his large hands and rammed himself down her throat as jet after jet of his creamy spunk hit the back of her throat. Hermione’s eyes watered at the sheer ferocity of it as Lucius pulled her back against him, stilling as he filled her up. 

All three rode out their climaxes in a cacophony of groans and curses. Thorfinn fell backwards in a heap, breathing heavily, his cock throbbing against his thigh. 

Lucius pulled out, watching his and Finn’s come run down the inside of Hermione’s wobbling legs as she immediately fell forward, completely spent. 

“Fu-fuck!” He stammered, leaning down to run his tongue against her wet slit, hungry to taste the mixture of the three of them. 

Hermione cried out, “No more… ca-can’t take… anymore.” She tried wiggling away from Lucius’ probing tongue but he held her down. 

“This is what you wanted… this is what you get… now hold still,” he mumbled into her folds, the tip of his tongue tracing a line from her dripping hole up to her arse. 

“Oh, gods… oh… fuck… fuck… Lucius… pleeeease,” she begged incoherently. 

He decided to show mercy, needing a few minutes to recover himself — after all, he wasn’t a young man anymore — and coming twice in quick succession had his energy levels seriously depleted. 

All three were sprawled across the bed, trying to control their breathing before Thorfinn spoke. 

“Fucking hell, Granger. You suck cock like a pro.”

Hermione giggled, moving her head slightly to grin at the wizard still laid out at the top of the bed. 

“I think you’ve sucked me dry, love.”

Lucius frowned at Rowle’s words, his possessiveness over the witch between them coming out to play as he grabbed Hermione and pulled her close. His tongue ghosted across her ear, making her shiver. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered, his fingers gripping her body to his.“Do you feel satisfied now?”

Hermione shook her head, knowing exactly how to end this evening between them. She wanted them both — one in her cunt, one in her arse — fucking her hard and fast. That was what she had dreamed of for weeks now. 

“No,” she moaned, feeling Lucius’ fingers pull and twist one of her hardened nipples as his teeth nipped at her earlobe. 

“No?” He asked, pushing his hips firmly against her arse. “Then tell us, our little slut. What is it you require of us?”

Hermione had never had a problem voicing her sexual wants and desires and so she told them exactly what she wanted. In exact detail.

“I want you to fuck me, Lucius. I want your cock to fuck my pussy hard, while Finn fucks my arse. I want you both to fill me up with your come.”

“Fuck, witch.” She heard Finn grumble as he moved off the bed, dragging Hermione with him. He gathered her up into his arms and thrust his tongue into her mouth, his hands roaming across her back and grabbing onto her arse, lifting her up against him. 

He turned and threw her down back onto the bed, his hand coming down and slapping her arse cheek hard. 

Hermione felt the jolt of pain/pleasure make her core throb with anticipation. She loved being spanked by the big wizard. 

“You’re such a hungry little slut, aren’t you? Not enough to be fucked either end by us, now you want us to fill both your holes.”

_ SLAP! _

Oh, god… oh, fuck!

_ SLAP! _

“Ride Lucius, Granger, now. I want to watch your creamy cunt slide down him,” Finn growled into her ear. 

In the time that Thorfinn had been spanking the witch, Lucius had moved to lie down in the middle of the bed, his hand fisting his cock back to hardness as he watched Finn slap her, surprised at the gleeful look on her face. If she agreed to be his, he’d have to remember that she liked a good spanking. His cock throbbed at the images of her tied up on his own bed — just the two of them — as he spanked her into submission. 

Rowle continued to slap her firm arse as she crawled up over Lucius’ legs, her knees either side of his hips, her dripping cunt hovering above his swollen dick. 

Lucius held onto the base of his cock as she slowly lowered herself down on him, Finn’s hands guiding her hips from behind, watching Malfoy’s prick disappear inside her. 

Hermione circled her hips once he was fully seated, eliciting a groan from the regal wizard below her. 

“Always so fucking tight… even after a solid fucking.” 

Hermione smirked as she raised herself a little, holding for a moment then coming down hard against him. Lucius’ fingers grabbed onto her hips, his own lifting up to push harder inside her. 

She felt Thorfinn’s hand wrap around the back of her neck, pushing her down against Malfoy, her nipples squashing against his broad chest. 

With the other hand, his fingers slid down the seam of her plump cheeks, running circles against her sensitive opening. 

“You’ve never let me fuck you here, Granger. I’m going to ask once if you’re sure about this.” His size was considerably larger than Lucius’ and, even though he didn’t know if she’d let Malfoy fuck her in the arse before, he knew it’d probably hurt her as he pushed himself in there. 

“Yes,” she moaned out, “fuck, yes… I want you, Finn. I want you to fill me up completely. Fuck me hard.”

He didn’t need telling twice. Muttering a wandless lubrication spell, Hermione felt a warm thick liquid being smeared around her opening, followed by the tip of Finn’s cock press against her. 

“Lean forward a little more and relax, little lion.” 

She did as he ordered, squeezing her eyes shut as a burning feeling of fullness invaded her back passage. Thorfinn felt huge as he pushed slowly in. 

“Holy fucking Salazar! You’re fucking tight,” he growled.

Once he slid past the tight ring of muscle he stilled, giving the witch between him and Lucius time to adjust. 

Hermione moaned loudly as he slowly slid back out. “Yesssss.” This was the best part of anal sex, the pulling out. Her body shivered in pleasure when he thrust in again… hard!

“FUCK!” She screamed. “Move! Both of you. Fuck me now!”

They didn’t need telling twice and they began to thrust wildly into her. Both wizards had been participants in threesomes before — the Dark Lord’s revels had essentially been mass orgies some nights — but having this Gryffindor witch, war hero, and all round good girl fucked by ex-Death Eaters was more than they could bear. 

Thorfinn lifted Hermione up — Lucius joining them — and they each held her around the waist, plunging in and out fiercely to the screams of her enjoyment. 

Her hands curled around Lucius’ neck, holding on for dear life as his tongue licked a path down her throat, biting at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. His teeth pierced her skin, drawing blood which he lapped up as his lips sucked at the damaged area, marking her. 

“Who do you belong to, witch?” Malfoy growled into her bruised skin. This wizard always got what he wanted and, as much as he was enjoying himself fucking her along with one of his ex-breathen, he wanted the witch for himself. And he wasn’t akin to using manipulative tactics such as this. While she was in the throes of passion he would do his damndest to make her his. 

“Yo-you… Lucius. You… I belong to you!” Hermione screamed, feeling both their cocks push deep within her. 

Lucius smiled against her neck, pushing his hips up into her, feeling Thorfinn’s prick rubbing against his own through the thin barrier of skin separating them. 

“Oh, gods… harder… fuck me harder,” Hermione roared as Lucius hit her cervix deep within while Thorfinn abused her arse from behind. One of his hands reached around to tug and pull at her nipples while Lucius moved one hand down to rub against her clit. 

Hermione moaned, her throat raw from screaming as they gave everything to her. She felt both wizards swell further within her, all three shouting out their orgasms within seconds of each other. Both cocks pulsed, coating her with their come as her walls tightened around Lucius’ shaft. 

“Mmmm… fuck… oh, my… Jesus fucking… YESSSSSS!” Hermione’s hips bucked wildly as waves of pleasure washed through her, the most intense orgasm she’d ever had in her life. 

She fell bonelessly against Lucius’ chest, white spots behind her eyes as she passed out from the intensity of their coupling. 

When she woke some time later it was to find the two blond wizards wrapped around her, sound asleep. She gingerly moved out from between them, her skin sticky from their activities, and her pussy and arse still pulsing slightly from what had happened. Her thighs were covered in their sticky semen, she loved it! The evidence of their fucking on her skin was beyond erotic. Hermione quickly walked across to the bathroom and grabbed a robe from the back of the door before silently slipping out of the bedroom. She didn’t want to be there when they awoke and didn’t have any clothes to go home in considering she hadn’t worn underwear and Thorfinn had destroyed her dress. 

She made her way back to the dining room to fetch her bag and her wand, and then walked the short distance to the living room and Floo-ed home, away from the two wizards who had brought such intense passion and feeling just hours before. 

But she knew she needed to be far away from them to clear her head. 


	4. "And what sort of a name is Sebastian anyway," Lucius thought snidely.

Lucius made his way down the long hallway, once more ignoring the sidelong glances and outright stares of people passing in the opposite direction. It was late in the day — almost evening — and he was sure there would be whispers as to why Lucius Malfoy was headed towards her office this late in the day.

And he had to agree.  _ He  _ was baffled. 

The way she had left after what he had to admit was the best sexual experience of his life, had him assuming he’d never see her again. They’d both woken to find the bed emptied of one person. It appeared that she’d gotten exactly what she wanted — from both him  _ and _ Rowle — and had left without saying a word. 

But, an owl had arrived first thing that morning and the note attached asked him to meet her in her office at the end of the day. 

The hope once more surged inside him at the thought that she had considered his offer, and would say yes. He wasn’t sure how — after what had taken place — she would say yes, but his need to have her as his own was all-consuming.

He paused outside the door, taking a breath, and steadying his nerves. Pushing the door open, he was greeted as he had expected to be. Her assistant’s face was unreadable, although the leather satchel at his feet indicated he was headed home. 

“Ms Granger is waiting.” His pompous tone caused Lucius to roll his eyes.

“This game of intimidation you’re trying to play won’t work with me, young man. I once sat beside Lord Voldemort — to my own detriment — so this snotty tone and haughty attitude is of no consequence to me.” Lucius leaned towards him, his lip curling into a sneer. “But, those who may wish to employ Ms Granger’s services may not have such thick skin as mine, and the effect your demeanor has on them may cause a downturn in Ms Granger’s clientele.”

The young assistant’s face faltered, and Lucius simply turned and walked into Hermione’s office, slamming the door closed behind him. His annoyance, however, didn’t dissipate on seeing her sitting behind her desk. 

Thorfinn Rowle was sitting in the uncomfortable-looking chair in front of her, smirking at him.

“Something piss you off, Malfoy?” 

Lucius ignored Rowle and spoke to Hermione. “Your assistant might want to reassess his attitude, Ms Granger. His holier-than-thou attitude belittles your reputation.”

Hermione simply smiled, twisting the feathered quill between her fingers. “Oh, Mr Malfoy, Sebastian is harmless. And I’m sure that seeing a long line of Death Eaters requiring my services had made him a little wary.”

Lucius narrowed his eyes at her and she laughed.

“Only my legal services, Mr Malfoy.” She dropped the quill onto her desk and stood, making her way around her desk to stand in front of him. She smiled, her fingertips toying with the button on his jacket. “My other _ services _ are reserved for just a few.”

“A few?” Thorfinn asked.

“Well, two.” Hermione slipped the button free on Lucius’ jacket and slid her hand over his shirt, stopping over his heart. “You asked me a question, Lucius, right here in my office. You asked me to consider an offered proposal.”

“I did.” Lucius glanced at Thorfinn, who was simply smiling at the pair. “And have you… considered it?”

Hermione stretched up to kiss his jaw, murmuring, “I have.”

“And your answer to my proposal is...”

“My answer, Lucius, is yes.” She looked up at him, and his breath caught, not only at her response, but at the genuine expression of want in her eyes. 

Lucius swallowed thickly, hardly able to believe this turn of events, but…

“And Rowle is here because...”

“Well, I’ve been speaking with Thorfinn, and he agrees with me.” Hermione pushed the jacket over Lucius’ shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. “He only wants me for sex. He’s not interested in anything more. You, however, do want more. You want me, and only me.”

Lucius watched as she began to unbutton his shirt, “But that doesn't explain his presence.”

“I want to be with you, Lucius. I want to go to dinner with you, I want people to see us together. I want to sleep in your bed. I want you to kiss me anytime you like, but—” Hermione kissed the now bared skin of his chest “—I also want what we all experienced together. So, I offer my own proposal.”

Lucius glanced at Rowle, who was still grinning at them, and then looked back to Hermione. “And your proposal would entail Mr Rowle watching us together?”

Hermione laughed, “Lucius, my darling, no. Thorfinn will still participate.”

Lucius gripped both her wrists, stopping the removal of his shirt. “Hermione, I might ask that you explain your proposal a little more clearly.”

“Lucius,” Hermione began, attempting to tug her wrists from his grip, but he refused to release them. She smiled patiently. “As I said. I want to be with you, Lucius. And I want everyone to know it. My friends, your friends, our social circles… the gossip columns.”

Lucius loosened his grip slightly and waited. This was everything he wanted, but Rowle’s presence unnerved him.

“But, I want Thorfinn to be invited to join us whenever I want, whenever he wants...” She shrugged and smiled cheekily, “whenever  _ you _ want.” 

Lucius watched as Thorfinn moved from his chair and stood behind Hermione, his hands instantly going to the zipper at the back of her dress. Lucius expected anger to surge through him — Hermione Granger had just declared herself as his, and only his — but the visions of her a few nights prior flashed through his mind, and he smiled. 

She had truly been a vision, pleasuring them both while they used her body as a vessel, taking exactly what they both wanted. The woman he once thought of as beneath him, as an abomination of all that was pure, had given him exactly what he wanted. 

She had allowed him to mark her. His teeth had sunk into her willing flesh — a mark, he hoped, was still visible on her shoulder. He had fucked her hard, had coated her insides with his seed, and hadn’t politely cleaned her after, letting her thighs also bear his essence. 

She’d been covered with him, with both of them, and it was a sight he definitely wanted to see again.

“Hermione,” Lucius finally released her wrists and cupped her jaw, “my love. If you are committing to be by my side, and only mine, Thorfinn is welcome in our bed any time he wishes.”

Hermione’s face lit up, her smile bright, almost unbelieving. “Are you sure?”

Lucius looked over her shoulder at Thorfinn and nodded. Thorfinn smirked, and Hermione’s dress hit the floor. 

“I am sure, my love.” Lucius leaned in and kissed her, his mouth finally claiming her as his own. She groaned as he bit her bottom lip, and then yelped, pulling away from his mouth as Thorfinn’s hand landed with a loud smack on her arse. 

Lucius grinned. “And as a way of showing just how sure I am…” He waved his hand at the ungodly chair, transfiguring it into a rather large bed. “Mr Rowle, I do believe Ms Granger is in need of a good spanking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fancy some more? Let us know!


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